


Lecture and Sass

by Astray



Series: Bones, Skulls, and Kittens [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I am not sorry, and he's doing well here, and yes bbyclone is back, please humour the nerd, this is more of an actual literature lesson intro than a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: Nix is, somehow, a lecturer, and has the privilege of being the only Medievalist in the faculty because who wants to learn about that era, right? Thing is, she also teaches literature. And gets sidetracked faster than Bertilak when Gawain is nearby.





	Lecture and Sass

**Author's Note:**

> Trick belongs to the amazing subtropicalStenella. (Go and check their fics! Their writing is amazing!)

“People will probably tell you that History and Literature are separated for a reason. These people are the same who will insist that the medieval period is a Dark Age where intellectual growth was stunted, where men lived like beasts, and everyone was dead before they turned thirty.” She paused, staring at her brand new batch of second years. Because medieval literature was only happening in second year or beyond. And medieval History… well, it held little interest, even in European countries, perhaps with the exception of the British Isles, but the Brits are outliers. 

“If I were completely honest with you, I would say that I rarely separate the two because I’m an old hag who never seems to remember when she’s teaching History, and when she’s teaching Literature. Neither do the course administrators. You all are stuck with me in the Void.” She grinned, and motioned for a student she already had in her classes last semester - Koma, if she remembered correctly - to speak. 

“This one is Literature.”

“Thank you my good sir.” She clapped her hands together. “So, now that the confusion is settled, those of you who wanted the History class, come back on Wednesday, 8 am sharp, because I’m the most evil professor this side of the ocean. You can tag along now, though. So that you know what you miss. I’ll be talking a whole lot today, mostly because you’re starting on Medieval Literature. Just a heads-up: no one is reading Beowulf in the original this year. Old English will have its own course next semester, because let’s face it, Old English is barely English anyway. No. This semester, we will deal with more accessible texts - texts that you may know already. Namely, Arthurian legends, because I heard it was popular. I don’t know what’s with people and Arthur, but I guess I can blame the BBC and Colin Morgan.”

“In Old English?” 

She was very good and did not outwardly cringe, reminding herself that it was not their fault. “In Early Middle English. It’s recognisable, but you’ll still need a glossary for that. We will start with  _ Sir Gawain and the Green Knight _ , which, in spite of its title and much to my chagrin, is not a slashy fanfiction between Gawain and a medieval eco-friendly fighter.”

She distinctly heard some laughing, and maybe a ‘meh’ or two. She went on. “On top of that - well, not on top on top, gee! - we will read  _ The Knightly Tale of Golagros and Gawane _ , because they present similarities, but mostly because Gawain is my son, and I would do anything to prove the rest of my colleagues that he’s a pure cinnamon roll too good for his idiot king, and would be better off riding into the sunset with Golagros and Bertilak. But again, I’m hear to teach you how to deal with Middle English, not brainstorm my next fanfics.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

She whirled to face the student who had spoken. Third row, smack in the middle. “And your name?”

“Trick.” Said student did not budge, nor look away. Testing her. 

Nix nodded, and approached the first row deliberately slowly. Using the Prowl™ that would put the fear of Hell in her colleagues. “And I hereby knight you, Trick, Sir Sassalot.” She took a step back, and made a sweeping gesture with her left arm, much like a salute. 

“See, that’s good, but it could be better. Professors tend to rant, to get derailed. Most of us love to hear ourselves talk. Except we are professors, and not voice actors. As students, it’s your right - or, in my classes, your duty - to tell your professors they are off-topic. Maybe give them five minutes, because some have a convoluted speech. Mr Green is guilty of the same. But really, if you hear me starting on how Gawain and Golagros are made for each other, tell me off. Or tell me to write that fic already.” A pause. “Now that Sir Sassalot kindly provided for the ground to be evened out, let’s march on.” 

Followed the next mandatory talk about course requirements, and readings. And an absolute disappointment when they learned that there was no modern translation of  _ Golagros and Gawane _ . 

“But how can we read it if we don’t get it?”

“You had to read Hamlet in first year, correct?”

“Yes?” 

“Just like reading Shakespeare takes some time to get used to, you will have time to get used to Middle English. It’s also one reason why I am set against written exams for my classes - asking you to translate it would be needlessly stressful and tedious, and what’s the point of asking questions on a text when the language is an obstacle. So,” she pulled another slide on the screen, “this class will be graded with either an essay, or an oral exam, depending on which module you chose. The topic for the exam will be discussed at least three weeks before exams signup, and-” She went on, until everything was settled, a list was passed around with their names, modules, year, and preferred method of assessment. 

“Before we wrap up and leave you at the mercy of my colleagues, one thing. Next semester, I might be able to drag both History and Literature people to the British Isles. Because I always wanted to and I’m one threat away from getting the funds from the Faculty. If this happens, you will be notified in due time about the signups and requirements. This is not a vacation, and will be credited.”

The was a collective ‘awww’. She smiled. “Well, it will not be a boring week, and you will have time to wander around. Any further questions - aside from ‘will she ever shut up’, because, like I said, this is a once a semester thing.”

“If we are both in History and Literature with you, can we use both when writing an essay?” That was Koma.

“You can rely on one or the other, but the requirements are not exactly the same in History or in English. I personally am all for transversal use of skills.”

“You said that we would not translate, I get it about the written exam, but what about oral exams? We’re supposed to know the text still. What if we have difficulties with the text?”

“The short answer is: you choose your subject, so you can choose the texts you will use. Aside from Golagros, they all have been translated. For an oral exam, I will never ask you to quote directly from the text. For a more in-depth answer, if you are to take an oral exam in this class, come to see me at my office hour so we can discuss potential subjects and ways to deal with it.”

Sir Sassalot went back to the charge: “Aren’t we supposed to find our own subjects ourselves?”

“You would be if you actually have been taught anything about Medieval English History and Literature, besides the Mist of Avalon, Camelot, the Monty Pythons, or the horrifying movie that came out recently. Not the 2004 one, the last one. I know colleagues who dunk you in the cold waters of old things written before 1930 without preparation, but that’s just asking for thermic shock.”

The course ended, and Nix was already thinking about how she could convince her colleagues that going abroad was a necessity and unlike some, she actually thought it would be educational. Maybe putting pepper in their coffee? Although that one was completely Jango’s fault - tried to prank her and it backfired when he went away on a job, forgot about the pepper, and forgot that she never drank coffee at home. Poor sod. 


End file.
